Lexicon
by Alex Foster
Summary: Taped to a chair between his two friends, he wondered if by trying to reason it out he was breaking Sam’s second rule: Never Even Think About It. That was suddenly the funniest thing in the world and he almost started laughing like he was crazy. Seddie.


Title: Lexicon

Author: Alex Foster

Category: General

Word Count: 1,133

Warnings: Kissing and big words.

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Taped to a chair between his two friends, he wondered if by trying to reason it out he was breaking Sam's second rule: Never Even Think About It. That was suddenly the funniest thing in the world and he almost started laughing like he was crazy.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Dan Schneider. No money is being made and no infringement is intended.

Author's Notes: Written for the weekly prompt over at Taming the Muse. This week the challenge was Myxophobia. Takes place sometime after iThink They Kissed but probably before iCook. Thank you for reading.

...

...

_We dance round in a ring and suppose, but the secret sits in the middle and knows._

-Robert Frost

...

...

The three of them made a pinky swear to never keep secrets from each other again. Well, they would have linked fingers if the duct tape hadn't been so binding. The idea was the same so Sam and Freddie added yet another rule to the ever growing list applied to The Thing between them. No hiding from Carly—rule number twelve now.

If it wouldn't break the number one rule of never speaking of it, he would ask her to mutually draw up a formal set of rules just so he could keep them all straight.

Numbers one and two were obvious. Three was less so. It didn't happen and if it did again it wasn't because of the first time. There was also the Melanie Addendum that was a whole other set of confusing. If she was real then it was gross but didn't matter; if she was just an elaborate Sam prank then…then he didn't know.

Freddie hadn't figured it out yet.

Taped to a chair between his two friends, he wondered if by trying to reason it out he was breaking Sam's second rule: Never Even Think About It. That was suddenly the funniest thing in the world and he almost started laughing like he was crazy.

Sam shot him a glance though and it sobered him instantly. Carly. She was right next to them and saw nothing funny about this whole situation.

Later, after Spencer cut them free, Sam stopped Freddie in the hall and said four words before vanishing around the corner.

"I crossed my fingers."

It did nothing to alleviate his confusion.

...

...

He and Sam didn't shoot any skits for the show without Carly for two weeks after she found out about The Thing. Freddie wasn't sure if Sam was avoiding him on purpose or why he even cared if she was. She didn't go any easier on him around Carly, in fact he thought she might be hitting even harder than before, and it wasn't like they were good friends apart from Carly or anything.

And he just missed the segments. Nothing else.

It caught him completely off guard when she grabbed his backpack one day before third period and dragged him down the hall. "We should do something on iCarly with Gibby and big words. Say some."

"Um…what?"

Sam stopped short and propelled him ahead into the wall next to the janitor's closet. "That doesn't count, Freddo. I said big words. Try one with more syllables."

He still wasn't sure what was going on, but his brain quickly pulled from his mother's weekly quizzes on common and uncommon conditions and helpfully supplied: "Myxophobia?"

A very small smile flashed over her lips. "You're such a nerd."

Then she was rushing him and shoving him back into the closet. It was combative enough that he tightened his stomach muscles in anticipation of the punch surely coming his way. Sam didn't swing a fist or stop advancing though. She was fully in his personal space when he realized what she was really going to do.

Her mouth hit his hard enough that their teeth clicked together and she swallowed his surprised grunt. Freddie's foot kicked a bucket out of the way as her full weight forced him back against the wall. She was a fury against him, sucking and nipping, and he had the strange feeling he was losing some sort of competition he hadn't even known he was in.

His hands clawed at the air for a moment, not sure if he should chance touching her, before finally coming to a rest low on her hips. It was his first good call of the day because she made a little noise and smiled against his mouth.

Freddie figured on the other side of the closet door the sky had turned purple, dogs and cats were living together, and it was raining fudge. So he kissed back.

Freddie was timid at first and that just seemed to make her smile even more. That sense he was losing to her made something switch deep inside and flood him with courage. He took advantage of her grin and slid his tongue along her lower lip, just enough to sweep over her teeth and tease.

Sam jumped and for a second he was positive that was his last act among the living, but then her hands were on his shoulders pulling him forward.

Holy crab on crackers.

She tasted like bacon flavored lip gloss and fat cakes and Melanie must be real because that kiss wasn't anything like this one. That was sweet and soft and this was savage and violent. Sam clutched and scratched at him and he found himself responding just as harshly. They were wrestling, sort of, but it was different because he was actually keeping up with her. He pushed and she shoved back. And they were _enjoying_ it. Exactly how messed up were they?

Her hands found their way his head and, grabbing two fistfuls of hair, yanked back hard. Stars exploded behind his eyelids when his head hit the wall. The absence of her lips on his suddenly felt strange and he gasped in the open air like a drowning fish for a moment.

She latched on to his exposed neck, pushing past his polo's collar to surprisingly bite and suckle his skin. It hurt a little but he didn't mind because she'd done far worse to him in the past. There was going to be mark; Sam Puckett was nuzzling him.

Forget a purple sky, there had to be a dragon with seven heads and ten horns flying around up there.

The attack ended just as suddenly as it began. She pushed away from him and for a long moment they just stared at each other. Both out of breath and disheveled.

Freddie touched his neck and upturned his collar, hiding the evidence. "Ecchymosis," he said.

"Ditto." She shook her head as though to clear her thoughts and Freddie couldn't help but feel proud at that in some weird primal way.

"So Gibby and big words, huh? Good idea. We should pitch it to Carly."

Her gaze snapped up, blue eyes wild. "Don't you dare mention this to Carly! Or anyone. You are many different kinds of dead if you even think about it."

"I won't." Freddie hadn't planned on it; rule number thirteen said the promise didn't count because at least one of them had crossed fingers. "But we should shoot something for the show. It's been a while."

"Yeah, totally. I'd like that." Sam glanced over her shoulder at the door. "Count to fifty and then follow me out."

When she was gone Freddie stood in the dark and tried very hard to process what had just happened. "Philophobia?" he asked.

**End**


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